


Like a Swinging Vine

by buzzbug82



Series: Destiny!AU series [2]
Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Fluff and Angst, Homelessness, M/M, Original Character(s), Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-12 23:30:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2128512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buzzbug82/pseuds/buzzbug82
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"But I think that my soul knew something that my body and my mind didn’t know yet. It knew that our hands were meant to hold each others, fearlessly and forever, which is why it’s never felt like I’ve been getting to know you. It’s always felt like I was remembering you from something, as if every lifetime you and I have lived, we’ve chosen to come back and find each other and fall in love all over again, and over and over for all eternity."</p><p>crisscolfer, homeless!au.</p><p>The second companion to the Counting Stars Destiny!AU series. Based on the 23rd universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a Swinging Vine

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is made upon request.

23.

“Here,”

Chris looks up and smiles at the boy with unruly black hair—as black as the midnight sky—who is grinning widely at him while holding a small loaf of bread in his hand.

“Darren! Where did you get those?” Chris is completely surprise as Darren takes a seat next to him and tears the bread into two, giving the bigger half to Chris and shoves the rest of it into his mouth.

“The bakery down the street; they were about to throw it away anyway,” Darren shrugs and chews; kicking off his legs and lies down to look at the night sky.

Chris sighs. “I told you not to do that anymore, what if you get caught?” He stares at the bread. Darren glances at him the moment Chris’s stomach gives a loud growl. Chris’s face flushes red as Darren laughs at him.

“We haven’t eaten in five days, and no one caught me. So relax and enjoy it, okay?” Darren pats Chris’s thigh and goes back to stares at the sky painted with millions of stars.

Chris is still doubtful; he looks at Darren and then down the street from his position at the rooftop of an abandoned house with a chimney and decides it is safe enough to eat, so he finishes the bread in record-speed.

“That’s my boy,” Darren mutters gratefully, gesturing him to lie down next to him. Chris does; and when his head hits Darren’s shoulder, Darren’s arm automatically circles around him.

They lie down for a while, listening to the buzzing sound of people in town closing down their shops and mothers asking their children to come inside the house to warm up and have dinner. The town slowly grows quiet and people retreats to the safety of their homes, basks in poorly lit candles and moonlight. There are a few small, skinny children roaming around the back alleys, trying to escape the cold and hunger.

Both Chris’s and Darren’s parents are dead when they were still young; their fathers are royal soldiers and their mothers are the best healers in the army. They died in the war and the kingdom somehow is thrown into enormous debt. Children who lost their parents in the war become stragglers on the street; some offers their labour for a slice of cheese, some steals to live. Some who are not so lucky got caught stealing and beheaded since thieving becomes an ultimate crime due to the tax increase. Chris and Darren lost their homes and has depended on each other ever since.

“Have you ever thought about leaving this kingdom?” Chris asks softly, even though he already knows the answer. They talk about it almost every night.

“Always,” Darren replies. “I wish we can get out of this kingdom and run off to the south; I heard the sea there is beautiful.”

Chris smiles, nodding indulgently, and pulls Darren’s arm tighter around him. It’s a cold night and the only clothes they have are on their body and they’re dirty and smelly and in need of several patchworks. But Darren’s face is so beautiful and Chris stares admiringly. “Tell me more about it.”

Darren smiles and runs his hand up and down Chris’s arm to keep him warm. “We’re going to get out of the kingdom, travel to the south and stops at several towns. We can see a lot of things; shows, carnivals, theatres…” He sighs into Chris’s hair. “And then we settle down in a little house we built near the beach, where we can grow all kinds of vegetables, and maybe some fruits…  We will have chickens and ducks, and rabbits in our little farm…”

“Cats,” Chris giggles. “I want a cat. Or cats.”

Darren laughs and kisses Chris’s dirty hair. “No problem, we will have cats and puppies too, if you want. I can go out to the sea to catch fish… And you can bake cakes and cookies using your mother’s recipes like you always did when we were little.”

Somehow along that time, their free hands find each other and intertwine closely as Darren keeps talking about their possible future. “I will come home with fish and some bread I got from one of the villagers to the smell of fresh-baked goods and hot tea while you wait for me in your chair near the window overlooking the sea and write stories.”

Chris’s smile widened when he realizes Darren still doesn’t forget that Chris’s childhood dream is to be a writer.

“That is a nice wish.”

“Isn’t it?” Darren mutters as he pulls Chris closer; Chris’s eyes close as Darren kisses his forehead. “I promise you one day, it will become true.”

The thought of the unforeseeable future scares him; life in the kingdom as street children is hell, he can’t imagine being able to survive it for eight years without Darren by his side. Getting out of the kingdom is their biggest wish. Only the richest and nobles get to go out of the kingdom with special license, or else for the rest of the time, the great gate is close tight with two bodyguards guarding the gate.

They fall asleep wishing and praying hard that fate and destiny will be on their side and one day their wish will come true.

* * *

 

“No,” Chris grips Darren’s hand. “No, no stealing. We can work for the food, Darren.”

“We had been trying that for four days now, Chris.” Darren is frustrated, Chris knows, but it’s also a dangerous task as he remembers the ten year old kid being beheaded in front of the crowd two days ago for stealing an apple. Chris bit his lips and tightens his hold on Darren’s hand, shaking his head.

“No, please don’t go, please. We can try again. I bet the milkman can use our help.”

“The milkman spat on you; if I ever see his face again, I will punch him.” Darren growls. He turns to Chris and his feature softens at Chris’s dazed look. Darren put his palm over Chris’s forehead. It’s still warm. Chris has been having fever for a week and it seems it’s not going down anytime soon. Plus they haven’t eaten anything in four days and Chris is getting weaker and weaker.

Darren gives him a tender kiss on his warm forehead and put the wet cloth on Chris’s head. Chris is sitting with his back on the wall in the abandoned house, too exhausted to move. Darren peels Chris’s fingers from his wrist gently.  “I’ll be right back.”

Chris watches helplessly as Darren disappears, running out of the house and into the street. Chris just hopes no one catches Darren when he’s stealing.

An hour later, Darren returns, his cheeks flush in the cold air and head full of snow. Chris suddenly realizes he had fallen asleep and doesn’t catch the first snow. But in Darren’s arms there are a bottle of honey, crackers and a wool blanket.

When Chris tries to speak, his throat is scratchy and raw. “Where—how did you get all these things?”

Darren already spreads the blanket around Chris’s cold body, tucking him in and snaps the crackers into little pieces so it’s easier for Chris to eat them. “The blanket is already lying on the ground and no one picks it up, so I think it’s safe to say I didn’t steal it,” he smiles; his lips are as pale as his skin. “And the honey and crackers… There’s a shop near the castle having big winter sale. It was so crowded so no one notices when I came out with these.” He scowls at Chris’s voice. “Good thing I brought honey, your throat must be killing you.”

“It does,” Chris groans painfully when he tries to move around the blanket.

“Poor baby,” Darren runs his fingers in Chris’s hair and tries to feed him honey and little bits of crackers. The sharp edges of the crackers are hurting his throat but at least they have something in their stomachs to go off for the next couple of days without dying of hunger and cold.

Chris offers the blanket to Darren when he notices how Darren shudders when they hears the wind blows. Darren refuses at first but Chris is so delirious with fever that he almost cries so Darren snuggles with him under the blanket, the wall is ice-cold on their backs.

* * *

 

It’s almost two weeks and Chris’s fever is still as high as ever. Darren is getting anxious and tried to get a doctor or at least one of the villagers to come see Chris but it’s all fruitless. He even tries to break into the town clinic to steal some medicine but the security is so tight he can’t even get inside the clinic without being thrown back into the street.

“Darren…”

The black-hair boy quickly leaves the broken window he has been gazing on when he hears Chris calling him. He kneels beside him and pushing back Chris’s bangs, noticing the sweats dampened on his forehead while it’s snowing hard outside. “I’m here, Chris.”

“Thank goodness,” Chris tries to smile but all he can musters is a slight twitch of his blue lips. “I thought you’re gone stealing again.”

Darren smiles half-heartedly. “I know you hate me doing that, but it’s for our survival. You know that, right?”

“Of course,” Chris whispers. “Of course I do, and I can’t thank you enough.”

“There’s no need to thank me, Chris. We have each other’s backs always.”

Chris nods. “Always.”

Darren takes the cloth and dabs it on Chris’s forehead. “Can you promise me one thing?”

“What is it?” Chris’s eyes can barely open, but he tries anyway. He wants to keep talking to Darren as long as his brain allows him to.

“Can you promise me not to come save me if I ever get caught?”

Chris frowns. “Darren…”

“Promise me, Chris.”

The determination on Darren’s face set Chris off and if he has the strength to lift his arm, he would hit Darren on the head. “I can’t promise you, but I’ll try.”

Darren smiles and settles next to him. “Good enough for me.”

* * *

 

Darren knows it’s a risk going to the town in the middle of winter festival to steal, but trying to get food in the winter is tougher than the rest of the year. The last time he and Chris ate is a small drop of honey left from his last steal and now they have nothing else to eat and Chris is getting worse with his fever.

So it’s not really a surprise when he gets caught by the baker when he tries to steal a loaf of bread.

* * *

 

 

_He is floating; everything seems blurry and feather-like and out of the corner of his eyes, Chris can see a little boy with brown hair and blue-green eyes sitting in a big room full of paintings, kicking his short legs while staring at the wide window._

_A woman with blurry face—Chris can’t make it out of all the haze—wearing expensive dress walks to him and kneels beside him, pushing his bangs behind._

_“Why don’t you eat your cookies, darling?”_

_The little boy looks up at the woman, blinking. “I promised Darren that I would eat with him.”_

_The woman stills, a gentle smile creeps over her blurry feature. “Darren still have fencing class, darling. Why don’t you eat this first before it gets cold, and then you can eat more when he arrives?”_

_“No,” the little boy that Chris figures was himself, shakes his head and stares back outside the window. “I want to wait for him. We promised to eat it together. I made the cookies for him, I want to eat with him.”_

_Across the room, a man with blurry face laughs and holds the newspaper out of his face, a wooden pipe in his mouth under his thick moustache. “Let the boy be, dear. You know how these two can’t breathe without each other.”_

_The woman sighs. “Fine, but let me just put the cookies in the oven so when Darren arrives, you two can eat warm cookies, how does that sound?”_

_The little boy’s face lit up. “Thank you, mother.”_

_The woman kisses his head and takes the plate of cookies and walks back into the kitchen. Little Chris stares at her then at his father who goes back indulged in his newspaper, the smell of tobacco and fresh-baked cookies lingers in the room, the warm sun shines from the window to his feet props out on the Persian carpet. He can’t wait for Darren to finish his fencing class so they can eat cookies and drink milk at the patio where they can play with the kittens which Darren’s new cook brought from her village._

Chris feels a draft on his pale cheek and when he opens his eyes, he is shock to find a woman standing in the middle of the cold house with broken windows with the weirdest clothes he ever seen.

“Did I make it?” The woman asks no one in particular, her eyes scanning around the house wildly when she finally settles on Chris. “Oh my,” she gasps and runs to him; her hand is small and warm when she touches his forehead. “Oh my—are you okay, dear?”

Chris fights the urge to roll his eyes. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“Well, I come to help you.”  She says as if stating the obvious. “Your Darren is now getting beat the hell out of him in the prison and they’ll put him on trial next morning.”

“What?” Chris’s lips quiver in fear. “That idiot, I told him not to go stealing at town… So stupid,” he let his body hit the wall, helplessly trying to hold on to the tears threatening from his eyelashes but fails.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” the woman coos softly. “I won’t let it happen,”

Chris glares at her. “Why?”

“That’s because I want to help you,” she smiles and pats Chris’s head three times, and suddenly Chris doesn’t feel dreadful anymore. His throat feels nice and warm and there’s no pounding headache and his skin doesn’t feel clammy. In short, he feels healthy.

Chris gapes at her. “How— ?”

“Don’t worry your little head,” she seems amuse by his reaction. “Now let’s think about trying to get your boy out of that trial.”

“But—but why? You don’t even know us…”

She stands and slips her hand inside the pocket of her jacket. “I’m sorry to say this, but I’m pretty sure if he dies, you’ll die too. Am I right?”

The silence Chris gives her is enough for her to nods in satisfaction and walks out of the house into the winter cold. Chris stands and feels the strength and blood coming down to his feet and walks wobbly to follow her.

“There’s no use of saving people on trial, the guards just hunt you down until they get you and kills you too; besides there’s no place to hide in this small, closed-off kingdom.”

The woman clicks her tongue and smiles at him. “You forgot that I’m the one who heals you, isn’t it?” she laughs, loud and clear. “Getting the supplies and opening the gate is easy for me, I can even do it in my sleep. Now the question is…” she glances at Chris, her smile is wide and cocky. “Are you willing to take the risk?”

Chris stares at her. This woman who comes out of nowhere, wearing weird clothes with weird hair colour and healing-magic-power-kind-of-thing intimidates Chris. He doesn’t even know who the woman is but she suddenly offers help to save Darren, heals him and gets them out of the kingdom?

He doesn’t know why but there’s some vibes going off from the woman that makes Chris wants to trust her. “Sure, what did I have to lose anyway; you already know if Darren dies, I’ll just follow him.”

“That’s the spirit!” she exclaims enthusiastically, eyes sparkles in excitement.

Chris smiles at her, wishing that fate and destiny is on his and Darren’s side.

 end


End file.
